Keesler AFB

He looked at me, full face, no shy lowering of his head this time. His eyes were inflamed with liquid fire, intense and full of purpose. There was only a half smile flashing across his face.

"I know what you and George have been doing," he said. His hand barely touched mine, a slight tactile expression to soften the accusation.

I was silent, stirred by the thought of George and the pleasure of our sessions together. I didn't know how Rustelli wanted me to answer him, but my last five years of open and uninhibited sex formed the answer for me.

"Yeah, it took a while, but I finally got him." I paused, took a sip of beer, and tossed my head back for eye contact. Ah! The window of the soul.

I laughed, "I guess you could say George tastes good."

"I figured you'd deny it."

"Why? I've been sucking cock since I figured out what it really was for.

What's to deny? It's the kind of guy I am."

We both paused, hesitated, breaking the rising tension by reaching for our beer.

"I'd like to suck your cock, Tony. Yours' and Swains' and Warticks' and all the guys. It's me. It's what I am."

I reached my hand to his, and traced my fingers on the inside of his wrist.

He slid to the other side of the booth. The black curly hair fell over his forehead as he glanced at the bartender who was preparing for the cocktail rush several hours away. He was slow and methodical and seemed bored by inactivity and completely oblivious of us.

"You're in love with George, is that it?"

"No, Tony. I don't love George. This is what I love," and I reached to his groin and I sqeezed his cock. "George just caught on first. He was asking for it. He led me on. You know what kind of a guy he is, always talking about sex, running around the barracks bare-ass naked, jacking off anytime, day or night. He figured me for queer the first time I walked in and found him lying on his bunk, tugging on his pole. He asked me then if I wanted it, but I wasn't use to army life yet. Too unsure of myself to let go.

"Then when I got a little drunk one night I tried to kiss him. You were there. You saw me. I had to pick out one of the guys, and I picked George

'cause he was the easiest. Yeah man! That's how it got started, and it's been fun, and I'm not going to stop now just because he's gone." I leaned over the table to him, and blew in his ear. You're next, Tony. It's your turn now."

"You're making it easier for me than I expected. Sure I want to have a little fun. That's why I went to the airport with you......

Placing my hand on his thigh, I gradually traced it up to his crotch. I could feel his cock getting hard, and felt similar stirrings in my own.

"Let's drink up, Tony, I'm ready. Been thinking of this for weeks."

I played my hand over the swollen muscle, riding it up and down, enjoying his evident horny hunger. Our eyes, locked in an embrace, flashed the hot desire consuming each of us. Forcing myself away from the stare, I noted the beauty of him in one single impression.

His angular features were dark. They accented a certain coarseness that was repeated by his leering superior expression. Black hair rolled down his neck and over his ears repeated by the slash of eyebrows hanging above the deepset black pools flashing fires within. The hollow cheeks and prominent chin were shadowed by a growing stubble. I brushed my hand over his beard. Stiff bristles on my fingers excited me. His dark, almost brown lips were full and, combined with his swarthy skin, hinted of the Moors invasion of his ancestral homeland. My impulse was to kiss him.

Would he return it, I wondered? Would he accept my tongue in his mouth as he accepted my probing fingers?

"I'm horny, too," he said. "Just one thing, Danny, with me it's a one-way street," he paused, and then played the final card, "I don't play back.

You understand?".

I didn't answer, but smiled to myself thinking of other straights caught in the heat of passion that ended up eating their words, and something else too!

We got an overnight pass, and drove into Gulfport. Rustelli's car was new and sleek and expensive. Something we had all discussed privately, was the money he seemed to have. It was he who paid for our nights at Browns' Bar, and our frequent dinners off post. Swain said Tony had connections. No one knew just what connections Swain hinted at, but it was assumed to be the mafia. This possibility excited me.

I looked for a motel as soon as we left Biloxi. When I asked Tony where we should stop, he laughed. It was a joke to him, and he put my hand back on his crotch. He still had a hardon, and I thrilled at the thought of that solid piece of meat.

"Maybe we should get some beer," I ventured.

He chuckled and drove on, and I continued stroking.

When we got to Gulfport, he turned off the freeway at Main and headed down to Gulfport Drive, which wound its way alone the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. It was a beautiful drive with large houses and condos facing the sea, blue and tranquil. He turned left on to a small alley, and reaching into his glove compartment, touched a button. The garage door we were facing opened, and he drove in.

"Well, here we are," he said, and he got out of the car and headed for a small door. He turned, "Well come on Danny, for Christ's sake come one."

I followed him into a large room furnished with sleek chrome furniture, white leather and rugs. Mirrors everywhere. There was a huge fireplace, and a wall of windows facing the beach only a few feet away. In the corner was a spiral staircase of gleaming chrome, that went to the ceiling in circles. I paused to look around at the tasteful luxury of the room, somewhat overwhelmed at being here. So different from anything related to army life. I looked at Rustelli, noting his tailor-made uniform, his complacent self-assurd expression, relaxed and unstressful, and I realized that it belonged to him, and he to it.

"You like it?"

"I'm overwhelmed. It's beautiful."

"It's small, but private. Just this room, kitchen and bath." His head turned toward the circular staircase, "That takes you upstairs to the bedroom and bath."

He reached his arms out and placing them around me, drew me to him. He kissed me. Just a gentle touching of dry lips to my eyes, then my nose, and then his soft open lips pressed mine and his tongue rolled inside, but out again, quickly as though he were unsure of whether or not I would accept it. Suddenly he was tender and shy, almost feminine in his approach. An amazing contrast to the dark stubble that scratched my cheek as he embraced me. 'A one-way street' he had said, but his actions belied his statement.

He reached to my tie, rumpled by our brief embrace, and unknotted it.

Slipping it away from the collar, he dropped it to the floor. His fingers, clumsy at first, gained dexterity with each button of my shirt, and when he reached the last, he slipped it off. Kneeling down he untied my shoes, and raising each foot tossed them aside. I stood separately on each leg as he peeled off the sock. When he stood up, I could see the tent made by his rising excitement.

He was the initiator of what was to be. I stood motionless as he touched my belt releasing the buckle. My pants fell to the floor, my shorts too, as he pulled them over my hips. I stepped out of them into the sunlight that streamed through the window. I paused there, enjoying the sun as it warmed my naked body, excited by the hunger in his eyes as he looked at me.

This was his party. He was calling the shots, but it felt strange being naked and blatantly hard while he was till in his clothes.

He went to the bar, mixed us each a drink and handed one to me. He didn't say anything, nor did I. I was waiting for him to make the first move. We took a sip in silence and he turned toward me. His face was impassive.

There was no smile now to soften the contours chiseled on his handsome face.

"Get on you knees," he said in a low voice, as he eased into a white leather chair.

"Yessir," I responded automatically, and I knelt down facing him. He laid the ground rules. He was master. He sat back in the chair and thrust his feet toward me.

"Take them off, Danny. The shoes and socks."

I did, His feet were dark brown. Narrow, with a high patrician arch. They were moist, having been contained all day in the leather shoes. His toes were long and manicured with just a slight tinge of black hair on the knuckle.

"Show me how you belong to me now. Not George. Just me."

And I touched his feet with my hands. Caressing the warm skin of them, feeling the differences in the texture of his heel, the arch and the curve of the toes. And bending forward I kissed them, rubbing my tongue along the slope of the arch to the toes themselves. I nibbled at them, sucking them, one by one, into my mouth, separating them by the tongue. I ran my hand up his pant leg, on the inside, to feel his ankles and the muscular curve of his hairy calves.

I continued kissing and loving his feet, and under his breath he muttered,

"Yes Danny, you're mine now." He paused a moment and then added, "Come up here, Danny. Sit here on the arm of the chair."

I arose from the floor and sat next to him.

"Take off my tie and unbutton this shirt, Danny," he said, placing his arms around my shoulder.

My hand traced over his chest. It was bristling with black hair. His breastbone was deep, accented by solid pectorals, tipped by nipples that were erect and rubbery. One more evidence of excitement. My hands followed the stream of body hair, down his flat and firm stomach, rippling with taut quivering surface muscles, to his pants. I released the belt buckle and the top button, and sliding the zipper down, I unbuttoned his shorts. My fingers tangled in the thick pubic hair, and then I touched it as it popped out, so solid, demanding attention.

He raised himself off the chair, his shirt fell away and as he released his arms from the sleeves, I threw it onto the floor. His pants and shorts fell to his ankles, and he kicked them off. he was naked as I now, covered only by the coarse black hair that grew over his body, and I stepped back to look at him. Like a roman god, he was built, all the stringing muscles and curves of his naked body were defined and accented by the sunlight as it streamed in the windows and reflected upon him.

He sat straight in the chair as though posing for a portrait except that, while his feet were together pressing on the floor, his knees were spread apart. His soaring hard-on cock was the focal point, the point that the rest of his body was referenced to. I was charmed by it as it swayed back and forth. The loose dark foreskin had slipped over the ridge, and the piss slit was crying with tear of pre-cum.

Without permission, I knelt down and spread his feet apart so that I could easily approach this altar with the required reverence, and bending forward, my tongue whisked the pre-cum away. I kissed the smooth hot silken tip with an open wet mouth, and then slid my anxious tongue down the blue-veined shaft seeking his hairy testicles where his smell seemed to come from. And I sucked his balls into my mouth so that I could taste him, and in a moment of rising and uncontrollable passion, I kissed his warm moist hairy secret part. In a frenzy of emotion, I slid my lips back to the tip of his horsemeat cock, sucking it down the highway of my agile moving tongue. He plunged it in deeper, to the hilt, and my nose was buried in the soft aromatic pillow of black pubic hair. With a grunt he came, splashing his hot sweet cum down my throat. Spurt after spurt scratching pleasure nerves sending jolts of exquisite sensation down my spine.

"Aaaaaah!" he cried, sinking back into the soft white leather, expelling his pent up breath with an enormous sigh. His eyes were closed, the smile of pleasure covered his rugged face, "That was great Danny, so great," and he wriggled his buttocks into the seat of the chair, his knees still spread apart, and his cocky cock still hard, swayed gently at the movement of his hips. "Don't stop. Suck it some more."

And bending forward I took the wet juicy cock in my mouth and sucked again, until with a faint whimper and a sudden lurch off the chair, he exploded his animal lust down my throat for the second, unexpected ejaculation.

My own cock hurt in its swollen hardness. The skin stretched beyond any prior limits. Though my throat had been twice wetted by his shooting sperm, it was tight and dry with unsatified passion. The fires of desire tossed all restraints away. I braced myself on the chair and, kneeling, I bent forward to his hairy chest, that great meadow of sprouting black curly hair, seeking his tender and erect nipples. Separating and encircling hairs with my tongue and lips, I kissed them making them expand even more.

"Harder," he said.

And I bit them sharply, and he lurched off the seat, his cock touching my chest.

"Harder," he cried.

And I clamped my teeth down upon them.

"Aaaaah!: he cried

And I tasted blood and pulled away. I led my mouth through the forest of hair that covered his abdominals, shaking and quivering in anticipation, to his cock, and settled there, kissing it, loving it, sucking on this demanding idol with all the love and passion I felt growing inside me. I rolled my tongue over his hairy balls and tasted body secretions with mounting excitement. I couldn't get enough of him, nor could he get enough of my loving him. For a long time we lost ourselves in this pleasure. I swallowed his cock deep. As deep as it could go into my throat for my nose was lost in his pubic jungle, redolent with sweat and remnants of his ejaculate, and leveraging his legs, he raised his hips off the chair and fucked his cock in and out of my mouth.

and he raised his legs up over his head exposing his asshole. The crack was full of black hair. His smell was harsh. I pushed his ass cheeks as far apart as I could so that I could better reach my tongue to his hole.

"Kiss it baby," he screamed at the top of his voice, loud and clear, "Kiss my ass, Danny. Lick it! Yeah boy. Shit, you're not only a cocksucker.

You suck ass, too. Ah shit, I love that."

I was so caught up in the excitement of the moment that I tried to force my tongue inside him. The taste was bitter, but exciting too.

Suddenly he pushed me away. "Shit baby, we better rest a moment, and he reached to the table for his drink. The ice had melted, the whiskey, pale with dilution. He rose from the chair and made us each a fresh one. And I looked at him, marvelling at his beauty, as the last rays of the days' sun reflected on his dark swarthy italian skin.

The ice-cubes clinked together as, with a tremor, I raised the glass to my lips. How refreshing the cool liquid was on my parched throat and, in contrast, it warmed my stomach with a swelling glow. I savored each sip as I stood at the window and watched the caribbean sun sink out of sight. I felt his hand on my shoulder as he walked up to me. I was still trembling with the excitement that had taken over my body only moments before. An excitement that had not yet resolved itself.

Enormous passion had developed between us, tying our needs together in a sailors knot that had to be unravelled so that we could be released from each other. Stopping our love-making in the middle of its demanding need for a completed climax left us both shaken. The liquor accented the need, making it stronger rather than diminishing it. So did the marijuana, that he found in a drawer somewhere, when the smoke exploded from our lungs.

There was a fire burning within us, intense and growing more so by the moment.

His hand traced down my spine, slowly and lightly, and when it reached the cheeks of my buttocks, his fingers slid between them into the crack, pushing, probing, then finding the hole, he gently pushed against the resisting sphincter. His lips were on mine, open and wet with the hot salivating juices of our mouths , blending in a kiss that was hungry and demanding, rather than gentle and loving. As his finger probed my anus, relaxed now, and open and loose, his mouth sucked my tongue into itself.

Our loving embrace lasted for a long time. Time that the drugs had expanded. A marvelous illusion. Then he turned his head, his hot and moist breath on my cheek, then into my ear.

"I want to fuck you," he whispered.

Taking my hand in his, he led me to the circular stairs, still sparkling in the fading light. I ascended them, lightly and quickly. My toes gripped the edge of the metal steps. He came up behind me kissing the cheeks of my ass, sucking hickeys on the fleshy globes. I was excited. Burning with desire for him. The thrill that surged down my spine increased. My cock was so hard that it tried to push itself out of its sleeve. I loved the sensation of rising passion increased by the touch of swollen hairy balls hanging between my legs and rubbing against hairy thighs.

Yes we have to finish it now my lover. It's time we put our hunger to rest. Let the passion explode into fragmented memories.

The bedroom was dark for the drapes had been drawn across the windows.

There was a lamp on the table by the bed. It was the only illumination for the huge room. The corners were dark and shadowed, and made it seem even bigger than it was.

He didn't speak. It was unnecessary. I lay on the bed, looking at him as he placed a pillow under my buttocks. He leaned forward to give me another tantalizing kiss, a touch of tongue on tongue. The taste of sweet mouth juice. I watched him as he spread a clear lubricant over his angry red cock. Then I felt the coolness of it as he placed some in my rectum. My anus was open to his probing fingers. His touch inside me sent thrilling waves of expectation. I opened my eyes. The ceiling was mirrored. Our images, obscured by shadow but there, looked down in mercy upon us. His back was broad at the powerful shoulders, but slimmed to narrow hips. His buttocks were firm balls of muscular flesh, a light sprinkle of short silky black hairs rolled over them thickening in the hollows just above the crack.

Separating the cheeks of my ass, he sidled up to me. I raised my legs and rested one on each shoulder. I could feel the tip of his cock at the hole.

I watched his body move forward in the mirror overhead. I had not been fucked for a long time, and my sphincter tightened as he pushed himself in.

Somehow there was comfort in the pain. A remembrance of things past. The glorious incomparable fuck! How could I have forgotten the pleasure of it?

He was relentless in the pursuit of his own satisfaction, and I liked that for he was master, and I was there to service him, yet the exquisite touch of his huge cock inside my body, thrusting back and forth against the prostate, made him my slave too, for I knew that the greatest pleasure of all was mine, and he was merely the means of attaining it.

There was no sound. Not yet. For we were only in the beginning stretch of the great build-up to the final bursting climax. The grunts and groans would come later.

Every once in a while he would stop his thrusting fuck, and lay his sweating body on mine. I could feel the tremors of his quivering stomach as his tongue sought mine in a wet kiss. My swollen cock loved the pressure of his hard hot body pressing against it, lubricated by passions'

sweat. Sometimes, instead of the deep wet kiss he bit my nipples or tugged on the hairs in my pits, and all the while his huge cock rested in the warm liquid cove of my asshole, and then, after we cooled down a little, he would begin to fuck again. I exercised the muscles of my sphincter, tightening the orifice, then loosening it, in a milking motion enhancing his pleasure.

"Aaaaaaaah!" he moaned as he began to fuck harder and faster, and lowhanging hairy testicles slapped against my ass. And the pleasure grew to impossible dimensions, climbing higher and higher until I could feel his cock grow even bigger and harder inside me and I knew he was about to come.

It was then I gave in to the growing excitement of the sperm gathering in my over-sensitized gonads, and as I felt the ping of his first spurt of ejaculate, I splashed my own cum against his hairy stomach, and we were both lost in the culmination of our climax. The orgasm was complete, yielding an abundant harvest of delicious sensations.

And with the last drop of cum, he slid his warm body over the pools of semen caught in the hollows of my body and kissed me. And as his tongue sucked upon mine, I could feel his still erect cock roll against mine.

"Oh! Shit! That was the best fuck. Oh shit Danny, that was the best.

The best fuck I ever had. Oh Jesus God!" And as he rolled on top of me, we were stuck together by the fluids of love, sweat and cum, and we embraced as lovers do and lay together for a long time.

"That was something, Danny, really something."

And I smiled to myself for I knew that the greatest pleasure was mine, and that he would fuck me anytime I wanted him to for he belonged to me now......